40. CASSANDRA

“No fair,” Carson breathes, reaching behind me and clasping my buttocks in his hands. “You can see me, but I can’t see all of you.”

He slides his thumbs under the lace waistband of my panties and pulls outwards and down. No one besides me has ever taken off my underwear before. The sheer eroticism of it makes me weak at the knees.

They slide down to my ankles and I step out of them. Carson leaves them hanging on the end of his index finger, a wolfish grin spreading across his face.

“Finally,” he growls. And by God, it is a growl. I can’t believe that the shy – yet handsome – teenage boy I used to debate has become this, this…

Man.

I let out a faint shriek of delight as he grabs me and lifts me back onto the bed. He returns his attention to my breast, kissing each freckle one after the other.

Meanwhile, his hand has found its way home. He uses it to stroke my pussy for a few moments until I can actually feel my lips parting in anticipation. God, that sounds so mechanical. But it’s so goddamn true. If mechanical is what a night with Carson is like, call me an engineer.

“You’re sure?” he whispers again. I can’t tell whether he’s afraid of my answer, or afraid of pushing me too far. I suspect the latter.

“Completely sure?”

I grab his hand and press his palm against my clit. My hips buck in response to his touch.

“Does that answer your question?” I whisper back to him.

He keeps his right hand on me as his left works my right breast and nipple. His mouth continues to attend to my left nipple. I lie there with my arm wrapped around his neck, making sure that mouth doesn’t stray from its job.

I shiver as Carson’s fingers reach my clit, gliding along the lips on either side. After a few moments, he dips the tip of his middle finger inside me.

My right hand grips his shaft, thumb on the underside, up and down. It’s like I’ve read a goddamn manual. In truth, just doing its job. Still, I go slowly, slowly. I have no idea if this is what I’m supposed to be doing, but judging by his groans, Carson is okay with it.

A handful of moments later, I feel the beginnings of a wave radiating out from between my legs. Part of it is sheer stimulation, part is the fact that it’s not from my own hand. It’s Carson who’s making me feel this way.

The intensity builds as Carson rolls his fingers around the circumference of my clit. Each twist brings another vibration, another wave, until I can’t hold back any longer.

I reach up and grab his neck, pulling myself to him and wedging my chin on top of his rock-like trapezius muscle. I drive my chin deeper and deeper into him with each tremor, as the pleasure waves finally crash against my shore.

My heart rate gallops as I gulp in air. It’s never been like this on my own. I want it to go on forever, entwined with Carson like this, feeling like this.

In my spasms, I inadvertently grip his cock tighter and he gasps.

“Are you okay?” I ask, suddenly terrified that I’ve hurt him.

“So okay,” he groans, lying back on the bed. “You don’t even know.”

I raise myself up and onto my knees, never letting his cock escape my hand. In the light of the bedside lamp, I see him bite his lip. I’ve never seen anything so sexy in my life.

Now that his bare chest is open to me, I go to work on it greedily with my mouth. I don’t know what I’m doing and I don’t care. I kiss every bulge, stopping to flick my tongue along his nipples. Each lap against his skin draws a corresponding throb from his cock in my hand.

I reach his groin to find that he’s almost bare down there, aside from a few veins lining his muscles. Slowly, deliberately, I inhale his secret scent. I want to know everything about Carson.

“Cassie,” he whispers, wrapping his fingers in my hair. “Oh, please.”

I oblige, looking at his cock up close for the first time. I’ve imagined what it would be like, mostly during my one-woman shows in the secrecy of my bedroom. It’s thicker than I would have thought, with narrow veins circling the muscles. A dab of moisture glistens on his tip in the lamplight.

My tongue starts at the base, flattening against the underside and ever so slowly rising to the tip. Carson’s fingers close in my hair in response. My tongue moves to the sides, first one, then the other. Up and down, up and down.

After several of these turns, I finally get on all fours and face his cock head-on. My lips close over the tip, and my mind flashes back to Carson’s finger in my mouth that day at the restaurant. God, I wanted him so bad in that coatroom.

But this is sooo much better.

He exhales as my mouth explores downwards, my tongue wrapping around the shaft like Cleopatra’s asp. I reach about halfway and can’t go any farther, so I head back up, adding suction as I reach the tip again.

“Huhhh,” he groans as he reaches up to slide two of his fingers inside me.

I continue up and down, gripping my fingers around the base to add to his sensations. Again, I’m not getting any complaints, so I must be doing something right. I respond to his touch with slick wetness, lubricating his fingers as they explore my pleasure center.

We do this for what seems like forever, until Carson finally moves away from my mouth and props himself on one arm. My pussy misses him immediately when he withdraws his fingers.

“My turn,” he says with a grin.

He lifts me and turns me in one deft movement, laying me on my back on the coverlet. I reach on either side of me to push it down, revealing the glorious satin sheets underneath.

Carson drops over me, supporting himself on his elbows, as his mouth explores mine, then wanders over to my earlobe and the hollow that forms where it meets my neck. From there he moves down to my throat, then my breasts again.

My belly quivers as I realize what’s happening. I’ve imagined this for years, wondering how it would feel.

I’m going to find out, and with that knowledge my chest begins to rise and fall like the pistons of a steam engine.

Carson’s lips are on my belly, then the orange fuzz of my groin. He kisses me there lightly, like a butterfly landing.

I breathe deeply as he reaches his destination. His lips close around the hood of my clit and his tongue greets my lips with a long, slow glide. The tremors begin and suddenly I understand why he had to wrap his fingers in my hair. I do the same with his.

My hips begin to respond on their own. Raising to meet the pressure of his lips and tongue, pressing against him and the softness there. After about a century of this, Carson’s tongue changes suddenly, become hard and insistent.

I gasp as my hips buck as the probing tip of his tongue presses against my clit. I can’t hold on anymore, I have to let go.

Just when I think I might lose my mind, his tongue becomes as hard as any other of his muscles and presses against me with an intensity I couldn’t have imagined even ten seconds ago. The world melts into a riot of colors and feelings as my body heaves and shakes with pleasure.